Some of you may remember my scenic, swamp-side abode from college. Perfectly decent townhouse, other than the pesky tendancy toward water leakage. Do you also remember our neighbors, the charming fellows with the 5-foot long iguana and beat up old Ranger with Danzig sticker? And the really bad cover band? (as Angela wraps her arms protectively around her unborn child just at the thought) Okay, living next to a band sucked in college. Living next to a band NOW is really not cool. For the past two days, my nice, quiet naptimes have been interrupted by a bass next door. He sounds like a decent musician, but it's a bass. It's repetitive. It's annoying. And it's amped right next to my bedroom. Grrr.
This is why I'm nervous at the idea of buying a townhouse.
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Welcome to my odditorium, a collection of curiosities made up of snippets about my life and occasional machinations on deeper subjects.
1 comment:
Oh that is bad. Quite bad. Maybe he doesn't know anyone is home during the day? Is this a reasonable neighbor? He could move to a different room. Or, failing that, I'm fairly certain we're going to have an unfortunately large overage of high-quality soundproofing insulation.
Townhouse shopping, eh? You asked a while back about small-town feel in my area. It was nice to find out over the 4th that /my/ town has a small-town feel. Yes, even in Doo-looth, if one knows where to look. I'll have to tell u about it.
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